Till Death Do We Part
by Ai Tennshi
Summary: They were young. They were in love. They could do anything. Or so they thought, but life proved them wrong. Colette/Raymond


_Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable from Ashita no Nadja._

**Till Death Do We Part**

They went to Paris. It seemed the most logical decision—Colette had only rarely ever been to Paris, so it was unlikely that she would be recognized, and Raymond had a friend who might be able to help him find work. They were leaving everything behind, and though Colette cried in the carriage on the way to Paris, there was an elation in both of them that neither could deny.

They were free. They were in love. They could do anything. Life was only just beginning.  Colette had brought only what clothing and jewelry she considered rightfully her own—neither her father nor brother could have any claim on them—but to her surprise, there had been very few of such things. The vast majority of the things that she owned were either gifts that were more for her family than for Colette personally, or in some way passed down through the family.

While Colette had never before actually acknowledged how much of her life was under her family's jurisdiction, the extent to which it was did not surprise her. She would have had to have been a fool not to see it. It was knowing this that she had left her family for Raymond, and so she refused to regret it.

Raymond was a perfect gentleman, as Colette had known he would be. He never berated her for leaving her family, apart from the one time before they entered the carriage, when he asked her if she was certain that she would not regret leaving her family for him. When she smiled and told him that she was, he did not ask again. After she left her family, Raymond did not demand that she sleep with him. He allowed her use of his bed to rest for a few hours when she came to his apartment that night, and did not even move to kiss her.

Colette fell even deeper in love with her husband-to-be. He wanted her, not her family or her money, and he wanted her for all of her, not just as a woman.

That was far more than most noblewomen could say about their husbands, and Colette was determined to treasure Raymond.

So her tears were short-lived, and she was soon smiling, her head resting on Raymond's shoulder as she drifted off to sleep.

Dawn was looming bluely on the horizon when Raymond shook Colette awake to tell her that it was time to leave the coach. Colette did so, and looked up with fascination at the city around her.

They were on a street that bustled with people, and not one of the people turned to look at them. The buildings around them were mostly old and run down, though Colette could see a fancy manor in the distance, up the street.

The carriage driver tossed their bags unceremoniously onto the ground beside them, hopped into his seat, and started the horses again. Colette smiled and called her thanks to him. He didn't seem to hear her.

Raymond picked up both their bags, though Colette objected that she could carry her own.

They turned their backs on the manor up the street, and made their way down the street.

The first week was the hardest. Language was not an issue, as Raymond himself was French, and Colette had had her fair share of French through her life. But they had to search for work for Raymond, and at the same time for a place to live.

The first night, they slept out on the street. The places that they had found with rooms or apartments for rent had declared that the last thing they wanted was a young couple depriving them of sleep and refusing to pay rent. By the end of the day they were exhausted, and Colette suggested that they find a park or an alleyway to sleep in.

Raymond objected.

"There's nothing more dangerous than an alleyway or a park in a big city like this one in the middle of the night."

"Then were shall we sleep?" Colette asked agreeably.

"On the main street. There can't be anywhere much safer than that."

When Raymond saw Colette sit down and curl up on the side of the road, his heart broke. She had left everything behind for him, and this was all he had to give her in return? He took off his coat and covered her with it, and sat by her, carefully lifting her head and placing it on his knees.

The next day, Colette suggested that they sell some of her jewelry; Raymond agreed. With that money, they managed to procure a small apartment in a run-down area of downtown Paris. It only contained a single room with a small cubbyhole-type area that sufficed as a kitchen, but it was enough.

Raymond still could not find any work, and they slept on the floor of the bare apartment that night.

On the third day, Raymond found a low-paying job as a pianist in a lower class fancy restaurant. Colette sold some more jewelry, and used that money to buy a chamber pot and a bed. It was not quite as wide as would have been ideal—it wasn't even half as wide as her bed had been in her father's house—but for a couple that was in love and would _not_ have to spend nights sleeping on opposite sides of the bed, as Colette pointed out, it would be perfect.

But Raymond again would not sleep with her that night. They were not yet married, he told her, and it would be completely inappropriate.

Colette was growing rather frustrated. He loved her, and she understood that. But couldn't he at _least_ share a bed with her? They were to be married, for goodness' sake! It wasn't as inappropriate as he was making it out to be.  But Colette refused to lose her temper, and Raymond refused to yield to gentle coaxing, and so they slept apart.

On the fourth day, Colette decided that she had had enough of the random food items that they had been buying. So she went out and bought them some dishes, silverware, a pot, and some food items, and tried to teach herself to cook. The meat came out burnt and rock hard, the bread didn't rise and congealed instead, and the vegetables turned dry and tasteless.

They ate out again, and Colette abandoned her attempts to get Raymond to share the bed with her.

On the fifth day, Colette succeeded in making simple fried vegetables, and discovered that their landlord's wife, Mme. de Maulle, was actually quite nice, and began to learn how to sew from Madame.

On the sixth day, Raymond received his pay and Colette succeeded in making a loaf of (relatively) edible bread.

On the seventh day, Raymond spent all his savings from Vienna as well as his pay to buy Colette a ring.

That night, after they ate a stew that Colette had managed to make, Raymond moved to take his place and sleep on the floor.

Colette refused to take no for an answer that night, and talked Raymond into joining her in the bed. As it turned out, Raymond had been refusing to sleep with her for a reason, and that reason became apparent when he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her the moment they crammed into the small bed.

Colette, of course, was completely open to this attention, and encouraged it. The conclusion was inevitable.

Their union was consummated that night, and they were married in a small local church the next day.

After that first week, life settled down for the couple. Raymond found another job as a private piano tutor, and with the increased income, they slowly began to buy some necessities, approximately one item a month: first a table, then two chairs, and finally, on Raymond's insistance, a cheap upright piano. The last item strained their lives and resulted in reduced rations for a few weeks as well as neighbors complaining of the noise, but once Raymond tuned the piano, the complaints came to an abrupt halt, and Colette took up work as a seamstress for a month to ease the burdens.

It was at the end of that third month that Colette's health appeared to deteriorate. Initially, she hid it from Raymond, but one morning, the nausea struck her so hard that she could scarcely bear it, and she wound up vomiting right there into the chamber pot. Raymond instantly fell into the roll of the far too concerned husband, as Colette had feared he might. He insisted on spending a large amount of their carefully-saved money to send her to a doctor. Colette put her foot down and refused.

Following an argument that had the neighbors knocking on their door—the women concerned for Colette's wellbeing, and the men concerned as to why Raymond _wasn't_ beating his wife into submission—and Mme. de Maulle solved the entire problem in the most simple way possible: "Colette, dear, when was your last cycle?"

Having established that they were to be parents, Colette and Raymond set about their lives in a delight such as only expecting parents can possess.

Over the next six months, the pair caustioned and chastened one another on the issue of spending too much money, but ultimately wound up buying themselves a cradle, a handful of baby blankets, and more baby dresses than strictly necessary.

The baby was born in mid-July, a beautiful girl with her mother's hair and eyes, and her father's smile. She was christened Nadja in the same church where they were married. The couple showed off their baby with pride, and the neighbors began to joke that the girl carried all of her mother and nothing of her father; these jokes were put to rest when Nadja was one month old, the first time her parents decided to introduce her to music.

In her mother's arms, the little girl danced.

The months went by, and Colette spent less time chatting with her neighbors, for she discovered that a little girl took up quite a bit of time to care for. But Colette never begrudged her daughter that, for Nadja always rewarded her with the happiest smiles.

Nadja loved everyone and anyone with whom she came in contact, but she let there be any doubt that her favorite people were her parents. The little girl only ever cooed happily for her mother, and only danced for her father.

Raymond adored his daughter, and their shared love for music only endeared the little girl to him more. When she was three months old, he composed for her a beautiful lulliby, and Nadja loved that song above all others.

Colette loved her life in those days. She could see her life laid out before her: she and Raymond would live happily, with Raymond's piano to guide them. Nadja would be their treasure, and they would raise her to be a proper young girl who would know her own mind and would never be swayed by the lure of wealth or power. Maybe they would even have more children. She and Raymond would guide Nadja and any other children they had, but never force them to choose their parents' way over their own. Their family would be happy together for the years until the children fell in love and married—because Colette wouldn't stand for them marrying for anything other than love—and then she and Raymond would travel the world some before they grew too old to handle it any longer. They would return to wherever their children had settled down, and would help their children raise their children.

Maybe she would even get the chance to introduce her children or grandchildren to her father someday.

Then came the day, when Nadja was almost a year old, that Colette received the news that a train had crashed, and Raymond, unfortunate enough to be on the site, had been killed.

Her happiness and her future plans crumbled to dust then, and Colette broke down and cried.

Nadja cooed for her mother, and when she received none of the usual attention, began to cry as well.

But Nadja was a strange baby—she never tired if laughing, but she easily tired of crying. So it wasn't long before Nadja was giggling to herself again, contenting herself to play with her toes if her mother was too busy to play with her.

Colette did not forget to feed Nadja or change her diaper, but she did so mechanically, as though she were not completely there.

At the funeral, Colette cried again. Nadja giggled and cooed for her mother.

Colette's eyes snapped open, and she remembered the daughter that she had been horribly neglecting for the last two days. Cradling her baby dearly, she made her way home to give Nadja some proper attention.

Raymond may have been gone, but Nadja was still here. She could still give Nadja the life that she and Raymond had wanted to give her.

The next day, Colette took up a full-time job as a seamstress. The owner of the shop knew that she was a force to be reckoned with, so when Colette offered to do the job, but only if she could do the work at home, the shopkeeper agreed.

Every morning without fail, Colette made her way down the street to deliver the finished work, pick up new work, and buy some food. The food was for Nadja, and Nadja alone. Colette could not afford any more than that. But she loved Nadja, and begrudged her nothing.

So they lived for a month. Then came the morning when she reached for her daughter to find her burning with fever. Colette worked more frantically than ever, scraping together all the money she could to procure food—she could not have managed medicine, no matter how hard she tried.

The next day, she herself lost consciousness.

She woke to her old nursemaid and thought she was dreaming. Then she saw that she was in her and Raymond's apartment.

"My baby," she murmured, and dragged herself to the cradle. It was empty.

"Edna," she called to her nurse, "Edna, where is my baby?"

Edna bowed her head. "I'm afraid that the baby did not make it."

Colette felt her life ending before it had ever begun, and as she fell to the floor, her last thought was a prayer.

_God, please take me to you—take me to my husband and my daughter._


End file.
